


Blackmail

by chaosminion



Category: Iron Man - Fandom, Loki - Fandom, Marvel
Genre: 1930's gangster au, Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blackmail sex, Internal homophobia, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki will do anything to protect Thor, M/M, Manipulation, Sex Under Duress, Smoking, Tony Stark does NOT have a heart, Tony gets his way, dub con, it really sucked being gay in the 30's, unapologetic smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7571332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosminion/pseuds/chaosminion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the 1930's in America the rule belonged to the gangsters of the city. While making a deal, illegal arms dealer Tony Stark spots something that he wants, and he will use any means necessary to get the young man in his bed. Including, and not limited to, blackmail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackmail

**Author's Note:**

> I took a break from my regular fics to write this little thing. It was just supposed to be straight forward smut, and then it turned into this beast. I looked up 30's slang and such, and I really really hope it's not too much or sounds too cheesy. Please let me know? 
> 
> Also, I'm very very very sorry for like, one racial slur. Writing racial shit shames me more than the dub con.

The air was heavy with the scent of smoke and rotting garbage, the air filtering into the warehouse from the streets outside. Tony Stark light his cigar, hoping the best brand of Cubans would mask the offending musk. Tony sometimes regretted that he watched over every shipment, but there were few whom he trusted enough not to fuck him over. Besides, his business partners appreciated his hushed practices.

The black '31 Buick sedan pulled into the warehouse, the lights dimming as the engine turned off. Tony puffed on his cigar, blowing out the smoke, as he watched two men disembark and walk towards him. The biggest one, the driver, he recognized instantly as the Odinson. Tall, blonde, and built like a tank. Not usually Tony's type, but muscles were rather yummy. The other one was darker, and hung back, letting the big guy take the lead.

Thor's hand nearly crushed Tony's in greeting. "Stark."

"What's cooking, hotshot?" Tony answered with his usual relaxed and haughty attitude, a thin line away between charming, and being an asshole. "That your shine over there?"

Thor glanced back at the car and grinned broadly. "Aye! You like her?"

"That ole dame is too tired. You seen the new Cadillac model? It's a real doozy."

Thor gave a scoff. "The new models, they are style, but no muscle!"

"You knucklehead! You want muscle? It's what's under the hood that counts! You ever heard a Cadillac purr?"

Their chit chat was interrupted by an impatient cough behind Thor, who turned serious, his snapping blue eyes focusing on the shorter Italian.

"Right. Enough about our wheels. We are here on business."

Tony snapped his fingers. "Right you are! You're going to love all this cheese I've got for you. It's top of the line, even the coppers don't have these babies yet. Take a gander."

Tony indicated the crate beside him, where on display were models of deadly looking guns. There were some Colts, some handheld, others semi automatic. There were Smith and Wesson models, bigger and chubbier, but fit well in the hands, and fully automatic Thompson's.

Thor reverently picked up the Tommy gun and aimed down the barrel. Tony nodded in approval. He knew the fire power of his guns, and they were nothing short of exquisite.

"Those babies spit out 875 rounds per minute. That's twenty five rounds more than the standard model. I've made my own improvements that I'm sure will impress the old man."

Thor grunted, replacing the Thompson and picking up the S&W.

Tony had not forgotten Thor's companion, who finally stepped up closer and into the light, to also get a look at the merchandise. Tony stopped chewing on his cigar, his jaw nearly dropping, at the sight of a pale and delicate face framed by the blackest of hair, with cheekbones that could cut. He was tall, just like Thor, but where Thor was bulky with muscle this newcomer was lean and wiry, his double breasted suite fitting snugly on his slender waist.

Tony's eyes smoldered beneath his trilby.

The sheik, this delicious looking lad with the mile long gams, was standing by Thor's elbow, but did not touch the merch. He looked petulant, as if he was discontent in being here. Tony wondered what it would take to get a full on pout from those lips.

The gangster pulled the cigar from his teeth, pointing it at the newcomer.

"Say, who's the dish? Can't say I've seen him."

Thor paused, slowly lowering the gun as he looked from Stark to the lad, then back. Both of them had heard the comment about his appearance, and they shared a look between them.

"Back off, Stark," said Thor in his dangerous rumble. "This is my brother. I'm teaching him the ropes."

Tony stuck the cigar back in his mouth, his grin spreading around it as he kept his eyes on this new game. The brother shifted his stance, intently ignoring Tony, though he kept flickering back from time to time.

Oh, this was too good.

"You've got a name, sweet cheeks?" Tony asked, tapping the cigar against his sole.

The other man seemed to wait for some signal from Thor, but the brother was once more focused on the merch. Finally he pressed his lips together and made a decision.

"It's Loki," he mumbled, still not meeting Tony's gaze.

"Holy Mother Mary, he talks!" Tony exclaimed, smiling even brighter. "Nice to meet you, and all that jazz. So you're the mysterious brother that hardly anyone sees? The head Honcho finally let you to play with the big boys, huh?" Tony nodded to the crate. "What's your two cents, then?"

Loki looked uncertain if he was supposed to answer or not, his lips twitching. "They look obtrusive, but lethal. It's easy to train soldiers with automatics. The Colts are more elegant."

Tony puffed his chest out with a large inhale, letting the smoke out. "You sure talk pretty. Just like you said. Elegant."

There was most certainly a dusty shade of pink on those cheeks. Tony's chest was feeling tight with want. He didn't care how he got that, he was going to get his kicks with this sweet thing.

Thor laid the last gun down with a final nod of his head. "If all of them are as swell as these, then my father will be well pleased. Are they ready to ship out?"

Tony shrugged and jerked his head to a pile of mattresses a hundred feet away. "There's your toys, now be easy loading them up. The rounds are in the pillows."

Thor turned and shouted to the vans outside the warehouse, beckoning with both arms for men to come in and begin picking up each mattress, shouting at them harshly to carry them with ease.

Thor walked off to survey it all, leaving Loki behind next to the Buick, and the overly familiar weapons dealer.

Loki was definitely uncomfortable now. Tony didn't speak for some time, just watched his merchandise being loaded and puffing on his cigar, while covertly watching the other Odinson. He knew that Loki was aware that he was watching, and it sent pleasant shivers along his skin. He knew instinctively that this lad was curious. Tony could always spot the queer ones.

"Hey hotsy-totsy," Tony spoke in a conspiratory whisper. Loki scowled at him. "Want to know why they call me Iron Man?"

Loki looked startled, his eyes growing big as they clung desperately to the back of his brother, who was too far away. Then they were back on Tony, too curious for his own good. He did not want to say yes, but he couldn't run like a coward.

His nervousness grew as Tony first undid the buttons to his tweed jacket, then the top buttons of his dark blue dress shirt. When he pulled the top portion open to expose his chest, Loki swallowed thickly, licking dry lips.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Tony said, rapping a knuckle against the plate of metal that was embedded in the skin of his left pectoral. It covered the area from the sternum to the top of a dark colored nipple, jagged scars running out from the sides.

"Some low life scum thought it was funny to try and knock me off in a deal that went belly up. They had to cut the bullets out of me, before they reached my heart. There wasn't enough skin left to stitch together. Didn't take to feeling so vulnerable, so I made myself a new skin. No bullet is going to get through this! You take a shine to it?"

Tony was watching as the dusty pink turned into rose colored spots on Loki's cheeks. He was affected by more than just the gruesome sight of the metal merging with skin. Tony had given him more than enough of a peek at the rest of his chest, too.

"What's the matter?" He asked, when Loki had failed to speak. "Cat got your tongue?"

Loki opened his mouth angrily, when all of a sudden the big blonde bull was back, getting between Loki and Stark, and glaring red hot at him.

"I said back off, Stark! He ain't one of your Molly's!"

"Ease up, hotrod!" Tony exclaimed, buttoning his shirt back up. "I wasn't making a pass! We were having a real polite conversation, aren't we?"

"He is my brother, and I will not have you corrupting him with your perversions!"

"What perversions? I was only showing him my cool scars." Tony's smile was sharp, and anything but innocent. Thor was not fooled. He shoved his brother back towards the Buick, still glaring at Tony.

"We will deliver on the first of the month! Don't be late!" Thor shouted above the roar of the engine turning over, then the black car backed out of the warehouse, following the vans that were loaded with illegal goods.

Tony took one last puff of his cigar, then crushed it beneath his feet. He had made up his mind.

What Tony wants, Tony gets.

~~~~~~~~~~

"He was gandering at me."

"He was not."

"He called me a 'dish', Thor. And 'sweet cheeks.'"

"When?!"

"When you weren't listening."

"Hmph. Never mind. Stark has no filter. His mouth is a dump for his thoughts. Everyone knows he's crooked, but the rumors that he's queer are just that."

"He was still gandering."

"Well, be a man and punch him next time."

"I thought I _wasn't_ supposed to punch him. Keep my yap shut, and don't cause trouble. He's a big shot who supplies our guns. Make up your mind!"

"I meant don't cause trouble! Doesn't mean that if a man makes a pass at you, you still punch him!"

Loki sighed and hunched against his seat. All the way back home he felt the burning gaze of Stark's eyes all over his body. He was never going to tell his brother that it was not unpleasant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The swing joint was in a rare mood, the smokey room crowded with patrons sucking down hard liquor like they were trying to seek enlightenment. Tony liked prohibition. It meant he got rich off of bootleggers like these. Weapons and booze. That was Stark's trade. His faithful trade partner, Odin, handled his band of mercenaries, while pretending they weren't loan sharks. Tony sold legally as well, to the federal troops, but his real money was in the black market.

Tony was here looking for a familiar face. This speak easy only let in the ones that Tony liked. If Tony did not know you, there was no dice. His invitation had been sent out weeks ago, and now he was waiting for the little fish to come to him.

Tony spotted him in the corner of the bar, his dark grey fedora pulled down over his eyes, as if he could shrink away from the crowd. The gangster smiled to himself, feeling the trap was ready to spring.

A casual suggestion from one of Tony's gorillas, and Loki was stomping towards Tony's private booth with hands in both pockets, his coat jacket trying to hide his identity. As if that sleek little bum could belong to anyone else. He slithered around the laughing drunks until he stood before Tony, looking very put out.

The gangster smiled at the adorable expression, and gestured to a seat across from him.

"Have a seat, pussycat. It's real swell of you to accept my invite. How do you like the joint?"

Loki sat as stiff as a board, not quite meeting Tony's eyes. He lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

"It is... decent."

"Decent? I am offended! Charley, get the boy a drink!"

A cup of clear alcohol was shoved next to Loki, who gave it a glance then ignored it. Tony's smirk grew.

"That's the finest whiskey in the city, boy. It should not go to waste."

Loki's green eyes finally met with brown.

"Why am I here?" The younger man asked. He sounded so uncertain, so uncomfortable in the midst of the revelry.

Tony's smile was supposed to be warm. "Well, that's a good question, idnit? Well, dollface, I have a proposition for you."

"I will hear nothing until you cease with the insults!"

"What- you think I been giving you crust?!"

"Those demeaning affections, as if I were a call girl!"

"Are you a call girl? I mean, you could make a lot of dough with a face like that."

Loki's eyes burned with rage. "The only reason why my hand is not around your throat, _Mr. Stark_ , is because I wish to get out of here alive. Now say what you wish, and let me depart."

Tony spent a good minute just laughing, washing his amusement down with more booze.

"I like the way you speak, kid. Even the accent, very foreign. Where did you get it?"

"I was educated," look replied coldly.

Tony whistled. He picked up an envelope from beside him on the bench and slid it across the table to Loki.

"Well then, professor, since you're so capable. That ought to tell you the reason I asked you here to my humble club."

Loki looked from Tony to the envelope with suspicion, but he picked it up, opened the top, and slid it a couple of photographs. It took a moment, but then his face paled, crouching over the photos and flipping rapidly began them, looking for a trick or flaw.

"This is... impossible! This is fake!" He exclaimed.

"You can bet your mother's rocks they're real," Tony said, lighting his cigar up with a smug huff, blowing the smoke out. "And I've got more where those came from."

Loki stood abruptly, nearly knocking the table over.

"You swine!" He snarled, showing off more of his teeth.

"You know, you're even prettier when you're angry."

Tony thought the boy might break something in his face.

"It's this a game to you? Do you know how serious this is?"

Tony blew a calm cloud of smoke. "Of course I know. Why do you think I've brought it to you? You're as clever as they come, ain't ya? Now what gain could I possibly have for showing these to you instead of the cops?"

Tony looked immensely pleased with himself, which made Loki want to punch him more.

All at once the younger man's shoulders slumped, and he collapsed back down into his chair. "How much do you want, Stark?" He asked, defeated.

"How much-?" Tony nearly dropped his scotch in outrage. "Do I look like I need money? Shit, if I needed more dough I would be appealing your father, not trying to smash your piggy bank!" He muttered into his drink about bank accounts being bigger than Odin's dick, to which Loki ignored.

Chewing his lip thoughtfully, Loki glanced once more at the photos, though they made him sick. This damning evidence, true or false, would destroy his brother, and their family. So if Tony was not twisting his arm for money, what could he possibly-?

"No..." came Loki's horrified whisper.

Tony's grin became feral. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a ringer! I knew you was clever, kid."

Loki flushed hot before he became cold all over. Unconsciously, his eyes started to dart towards the paths of escape. The joint was too crowded, though Tony's table had a private bubble around it.

"You can't possibly be serious," Loki hissed. "Your reputation would be damaged as much as Thor's!"

"Ah, but here's the difference, princess: I don't give a shit. My reputation is what it is. My people fear and respect me, no matter what. They know I look out for my own, and I don't take kindly to those who try to turn on me. So the real question is..."

Tony leaned forward with the cigar between the first two fingers, pointed at Loki.

"What would you do to protect your brother?"

The heavy weight of silence dropped between the two men. Loki's eyes quickly averted, his breath quickening in short pants as he was faced with this deep pit before his feet. Loki could not go to his father with this. Odin must never know. It would destroy him, and their mother. Loki already knew his answer, as did Tony. For Thor, there was nothing Loki would not do.

Nothing.

Gradually the empty silence cleared from his ears, and Loki became aware of the music and laughter of the joint again. He looked up, but could see that no one was paying any attention at all. Tony could reach over and stab him, and not a single reveler would bat an eye.

"What you are asking of me," Loki began, his pink tongue daring out to lick his lips. "If anyone found out..."

"It would mean I lose a valuable asset," Tony put in. "And I don't want that ass going anywhere." His grin was a rather lewd as he glanced down Loki's body. "Don't fuss your pretty little head over it. Here, just come to this address tonight, ten sharp."

The gangster slid a piece of paper over to Loki's side of the table that held a single line of written scrawl. Loki memorized the address than slid it back with a scowl. There was so much chaos in his mind that he could not speak without it spilling out. Without another word he stood up, popped the collar of his hood, and stalked out the door, dodging drunk men and dames on the way.

"Huh, didn't even finish his whiskey. Oh well, can't let it go to waste." Tony whistled merrily the rest of the night until he bid his manager goodnight and shuffled into his Cadillac and drove off, with his bodyguards trailing him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loki took one last look down the street, then another to his left. He had been standing in the drizzling rain for half an hour, just staring at the house with the burning windows, unable to will his legs to go forward. This was madness. Loki could not believe he was even considering this. It was against the laws of nature, and against everything he had been taught. It was abhorrent, and disgusting.

Then why, deep down, were those shakes and nerves so thrilling?

Loki had tried every measure he knew to rip this secret desire from his veins. He had failed every time. It remained there, like a poison, consuming him from the inside out. This night might be the only chance he could have to taste the forbidden fruit.

He took a step forward. Then another. Then he was crossing the street in hurried, secretive steps, going past the front door and to the back, like a darky. There he knocked on the back door, holding his breath until he nearly choked.

A white man opened the door, his arched nose and stern brows marking him as the butler, and a Brit even. He looked Loki over, taking in the wet coat and fedora, and opened the door further.

"Master Loki, I presume? Mister Stark told me to expect you. Allow me to take your coat."

The open door beckoned. Loki took a breath, gathering what little dignity he had, and entered the house. For Thor.

Impatient hands nearly ripped the coat from his back. "Do try not to drip on the carpet," said the stiff voice, also taking Loki's hat and hanging both articles on a hook. "Mister Stark is in the library. Follow me, Sir."

Loki shook his wet hair so that at least a few drops made it onto the spotless kitchen floor. He was rewarded with a perturbed sniff. Following the butler, Loki gazed about the decorated rooms, seeing the wealth in every corner. Stark was not the sort of man to pinch pennies. Quite the opposite, it seemed.

His nervous energy increased as they neared the end of the hall, where the butler showed him in with a bow. "Your guest has arrived, Mister Stark."

Loki registered a pair of prim loafers on the back rest of the couch, before they moved, and a familiar brown haired, ruffled looking head emerged. The gangster broke into a wide smile.

"Loki-cheeks! You're a sight for sore eyes. Come in, let me get you a drink! That will be all, Jarvis."

The butler took a bow at the dismissal, then closed the double doors as he backed out. Loki felt the thud of the wood in the pit of his stomach.

Tony crossed the room to a liquor bar that was entirely illegal, and took down a tumbler and a bottle. "Don't worry about Jarvis. He's completely loyal to me, he's just finicky about the floors. Since you spurned my whiskey earlier, perhaps some gin? Are you a gin sort of guy? Please tell me you're not a beer type, we might have to rethink this entire evening."

Loki swallowed hard at the joke. He thought about refusing, but he would need the fortification before they started.

"Gin is fine," he said, his tone subdued.

A moment later the tumbler was pressed into his hand, and he brought it to his lips for a deep gulp. His esophagus would hate him later, but the burning heat melted away the edge of his anxiety.

"There," said the satisfied dealer. "It's better that way, isn't it?"

Tony sauntered back to the couch with his own glass of scotch. The two were never far apart.

"I'm down right giddy that you're here, Loki-cheeks. This will be the start of something beautiful, I can tell."

Loki glanced sharply at him. "The start? No, I think not. This is a one time deal. Me in exchange for those photos and negatives, and any other copies you may have made. That's the deal, and you will honor it."

Tony pressed his lower lip out in a pout. "Really? What if you end up liking it? We could make it regular."

"I would not count on it. The negatives, Stark!"

Tony sighed and tossed back his juice. "Fine, a one shot. I was not expecting more, but ya can't blame a guy for trying."

"I lay plenty of blame at your feet," Loki snapped, scowling at his drink before finishing it and laying it down. "Where are the negatives?"

"Kill joy. They are on a table. In my room." His insufferable smirk had returned. "You'll have to convince me to show them to you."

Loki felt a thrill of both fear and anticipation. This was the moment. He has given it a lot of thought, but he had not known before now how it would begin. He had honestly expected Stark to shove him roughly against a wall and molest him. Instead the gangster was watching him curiously under thick lashes, waiting for Loki to make the first move.

Right, because Loki had come of his (seemingly) own choice. Stark continued to use that facade. It was up to him.

Shifting his weight to a wider, more relaxed stance to portray a confidence that Loki did not feel, he locked eyes with Stark as his fingers went to his suit jacket, unbuttoning the front and slipping the garment from his shoulders, the material smoothing down his arms to the floor. He left it crumpled there like his dignity as he turned to face away from the gangster, slowly pulling the elastic bands of his suspenders down, letting them hang at his hips.

Stark's breath had caught the moment the button popped on his jacket, the man going absolutely still as he followed the lines of Loki's body that was revealed with each removal of cloth. Loki could feel that stare burn the back of his neck as he slowly unbuttoned his crisp white dress shirt. If he was going to do this, he might as well give a show, right?

What the hell was he doing?

His hands reached the button of the shirt and before he could hesitate he whipped it off, revealing a pair of cream colored shoulders that he worked so hard at filling out, and a torso that was finally developing a hardness rather than baby fat.

The tension in the room was palpable as he rotated, his throat constricting as he tried to swallow. Loki thought his heart would gallop out of his chest, and though he still had his suit trousers on, he might as well have been completely naked. He was almost too scared to see Stark's reaction.

Which is why he forced himself to stare at Stark with a challenge in his green depths. Was this acceptable? He did not dare ask.

Though it was clear by the awestruck look on the gangsters face that yes, oh hell yes this was acceptable. Stark gave a low whistle.

"Now that's what I'm talking about! Did someone give you pointers? Because damn, you're a natural, kid." His smug grin was back, practically ravishing Loki with his eyes. The younger man didn't know that his shallow breathing was causing his stomach to tighten, showing off those budding abs in a delicious way.

Tony fought the desire to jump off the couch right then and there. Instead he beckoned with a finger.

"Come 'ere, Dollface," he ordered, his voice a low growl that sent goosebumps over Loki's skin.

He had to suck in a breath first, but Loki crossed the room as easily as if he were walking across his own bedroom. Somehow, now that it had started, he felt calmer, as if Stark's approval has actually been important.

When he was within reach, Stark's greedy fingers hooked around his waist and pulled him closer, right in between his knees, pressing an open kiss to Loki's lower abdomen, just above his navel. Loki's stomach jumped in surprise, along with his breath, his hands reflexively curling around Stark's shoulders. There was an uncomfortable heat in his gut, an arousal right next to the disgust, as the fire from Stark's mouth soaked into his body, forever branding him.

A whimper, or some other pathetic noise, must have escaped him, for Stark glanced up with wicked glee, digging his fingers into the flesh and moving his mouth an inch to the left to kiss again.

"Like that, baby doll? We are just getting started. There is so much I have to show you."

Why did that thrill Loki, instead of making him run crying? Not for the first time in his life, Loki wanted to know why he had to be pulled in this direction, to want this sinful act.

"Hey, precious. I'm down here. I knew that look, you need to stop it."

Loki frowned. "Stop what?"

"The self loathing. You can't help it. You want what you want, there ain't no shame there."

Loki swallowed thickly, startling himself with a bitter laugh. "Oh really? Because society, and literally everyone, says otherwise."

"Fuck society," Stark replied, as if it were that easy. "Also, fuck me. That's why you're here. And damn if this ain't the must beautiful sight I've ever seen. And I've seen a lot."

Loki squirmed, fighting the blush that was spreading over his cheeks.

"You don't have to give lip service, Stark. You're already getting what you want."

Tony gave him a sharp look, grabbing firmly onto the ass and pulling Loki flush against him.

"Do I look like the kind of schmuck who talks out of the side of his face? I never say what I don't mean, Loki. There's a reason I asked you here. You think if I wanted some Doxy I would have gone through the trouble of gathering those negatives?"

Loki wasn't sure when he had started trembling, but he wanted it to stop. "B-but... why?"

The grin was restored on Tony's face at the broken question. Tugging on Loki's belt, he directed Loki down onto the couch, on his back so Tony could crawl over him, pressing kisses along the lean chest, and up to the dusky pink nipples.

"How old are you, Loki?"

"Ah-" Loki's inhale was sharp and quick. "T-twenty."

"Hmm." Tony's lips brushed across the sensitive skin, before his tongue flickered out. "And in that long life, how many times have you been complimented?"

"Umm."

"Thought so. You were so shocked in the warehouse you would think I had announced our engagement. I'll bet the reason why you're working so hard on these muscles is because you're trying to impress the ones you know will never really approve."

Why did Loki's eyes suddenly burn? He hated Stark for being right.

"As if that is a revelation! You've met my brother," he said through gritted teeth. "You've seen what I have to live up to, only I never can. I'm just the family disappointment."

A hand shot up and gripped his jaw, forcing Loki's eyes to meet the suddenly very serious brown ones.

"There will be no talk like that in my house. You're twice the man Thor is, and you don't need muscles to prove it. And no, I'm not taking away your masculinity or some other bullshit rhetoric that they spew from the pulpit of their self righteousness. You are you, Loki. I'm not asking you to be anything else."

The emotional punch in the gut left Loki reeling, trying to comprehend why Stark would be so concerned about Loki's self worth while he had him pinned to his couch, about to take advantage of him?

Anger flared red hot, and Loki smacked the hand away from his face.

"You bastard," he hissed, struggling against the weight that held him down. "Damn you!"

Stark didn't seem to mind the struggle, in fact he laughed as he held on, using his position against his captive, dropping his weight down at the same time as his teeth sought Loki's neck, making Loki gasp and turn his head away, unwittingly revealing more of the pale column. Those teeth moved up his throat, causing him to whimper in fear, and not a small amount of lust. Tony had found a weak point, and fully used it until the young man was a quivering mess beneath him, tired from the burst of energy, and breathing heavily.

When Tony finally pulled back to admire his handiwork, he smiled at how dark and blown the green eyes had become, unfocused on the ceiling above him.

"You look good like this. Debauched. That's the word, isn't it?"

Loki's eyes fluttered shut in defeat, not even twitching as Tony's hands moved down his torso to palm at his thighs, the heat soaking through the material and adding to the fire in his skin. He heard a rustle of cloth and opened one eye a slit to see Tony removing his shirt as well. The metal plate gleamed dully in the lamp light, a contrast to the dark scars surrounding it.

"Iron man?" Loki asked quietly, touching the plate with two fingers. Tony watched him with something hidden in his eyes.

"You like it?"

"Does it... does it hurt?"

"We'll it ain't silk sheets, if that's what you're askin'."

When Tony leaned down again it was skin on skin, and Loki did not even try to hold back the strangled gasp. The metal wasn't cold as he expected, but the same temperature as Tony's skin.

"Fuck. Baby, I could eat you up. That's not a bad idea. Come on, up you go."

Tony pulled a disoriented Loki to his feet, holding him until he was steady, then with a hand on his lower back, Tony guided Loki to the library door and down the hall.

"Where are we going?" Loki heard himself ask, as if he didn't already know. His brain had ceased to function normally.

"I'm taking you on a tour. Next stop is my bedroom. What can I say, kid? You convinced me."

Loki had only a few seconds to take in the warm colors of wood and velvet navy, before his knees found the bed and an eager Tony was pressing him back, a hand forcing him to lean half back on his elbows while he towered over him.

Loki had only the hint of cinnamon on breath before a warm mouth was enclosing his own, the shock of the kiss parting his lips and allowing Tony to slip his tongue inside. The gangster gave a low moan before Loki managed to pull his face away, eyes wide.

"I-is that necessary?" He asked, tasting scotch on his tongue. It scared him how eager his body was to accept these advances.

Tony was licking the corner of his mouth, eyeing Loki like prey.

"Absolutely. You can't hide behind your denial forever, Loki. I can feel exactly what this is doing to you."

He leaned in for another kiss, and this time Loki didn't fight it. He did, however, squeal when Tony rolled his hips, revealing the state of his groin, as well as Loki's.

"See? No secrets there, sweetheart."

Loki wanted to claw the man's eyes out, but he was growing dizzy from lack of oxygen, trying to keep up with the demanding tongue that plundered his mouth, as well as the roaming hands on his naked skin.

"At least you know how to kiss," Tony murmured, kissing his way down Loki's neck and chest, almost worshipful in its purpose.

Loki remembered what it was like to breathe.

"Of course I do. I'm not a virgin, you know."

"No?" Tony worked open Loki's belt as he continued to kiss the fine hip bones. "Call me smack jawed. When?"

"I was..." Loki found it difficult bringing up memories while that mouth hovered over his erection. "Sixteen. Thor brought... a woman to the house. For my birthday."

"I see. And since then?"

"A dalliance here and there. It is not bad, really. Just..."

"Just not quite the spark that lights your fire, is it?"

Loki shook his head, feeling the remnants of his facade being torn away. He was not even certain if he was sad to watch it go. To have another man's hands on him had only been a part of his dreams. Tony's were calloused and rough, but in a nice way. As if he worked on his own cars. They snagged on Loki's skin, abrasive and hot, scrubbing away the lies that Loki had wrapped around himself since the day he discovered his twisted nature. It felt nice, for a change.

While he had zoned out, Tony had gotten the belt off and was tugging down the edge of the suit pants, biting on each inch of flesh that was revealed, sending Loki's arousal through the roof.

The pants were off. Loki flushed a bright red at the sight of his own cock, fully filled and bobbing against his stomach, mere inches away from Tony's grinning lips. Sinful brown eyes flickered up to meet his, then Tony's tongue stuck out, and with deliberate slowness, licked the underside of Loki's cock.

Loki's cry was loud enough to ring in his ears, and he bit his thumb to make it stop. At this rate he was going to spill and spoil everything. He wasn't here for his own sake. He wasn't supposed to want this. Thor. He was here for Thor.

"Relax, baby," came Tony's soothing voice, his palms rubbing circles along Loki's trembling thighs. "Hey, hey. Breathe, Loki. This will be a whole lot worse if you don't relax. I'm not a selfish bastard, you know. Well.... not entirely. I want you to get something out of this, too."

Loki raised his head to contemplate Tony. "Why?"

Tony stood up, removing his own belt and pants while he drank in the beautiful sight of all that pale skin spread out on his sheets.

"Because I like to hear your gasps, your moans. I like to feel the way you jump every time I bite you. I don't get off on giving others pain, that's not what this is about."

Loki swallowed thickly, unable to take his eyes off of the thick member that was destined for him.

"What is this about, Stark?"

"Call me Tony," he said, crawling up and spreading Loki's knees to either side of his waist. He placed a hand on Loki's cheek, rubbing a thumb over the parted lips. "This is about a guy so desirable, so damn enticing, that I wanted him instantly in my bed, panting and moaning my name. Can you do that for me, sweetheart? What's my name?"

He didn't give Loki a chance to answer, capturing that mouth once more, punishing the lips with his teeth while Loki whined and pushed up his entire body to seek Tony's. Loki had no idea how powerful a few compliments would be, how it made him dizzy with want, burning from the inside out. Every time his cock rubbed against Tony's another spark light another fire, until he was sure he would be consumed, leaving only a pile of ash.

Loki clung to the broad shoulders, finding them hard with muscle that surely came from hard labour. Emboldened, his fingers mapped out the rest of Tony's back, finding each dip and ridge and digging into it, finding that it made Tony's movements a little more frantic.

"My name?"

"Tony," Loki whispered, almost ready to give anything at this point. "Tony."

The Tony in question gave a helpless groan, sitting up to reach for something on the nightstand. Loki found the separation left him cold, which helped to clear his head a little. He discovered that Tony had a small glass bottle of oil, which he was pouring into his palm and fingers. He swallowed dryly, guessing what came next.

"I wasn't pulling your leg, sweetheart. You'll need to relax for this. You'll be tight, but I'll help with that. I won't hurt you, baby."

Loki was trembling, but instead of plunging right in, Tony spread the oil on Loki's shaft and balls, working him a few times until Loki let go, the tension leaving him.

"That's good, sweetheart," Tony said, working the oil into Loki's groin and thighs, then lower, until he was between the cheeks, touching the furled muscle, making Loki gasp and squirm.

"You ever touch yourself here?" Tony asked. As if Loki could be even more embarrassed.

"O-once," Loki panted, gripping the sheets beneath him. "Or- or twice."

The man chuckled. "That's good. A little experimenting goes a long way. Now, I want you to hold this, just hold it, there. Don't squeeze it until I tell you. Now... go on. Down, and up. That's it."

Under Tony's direction, Loki stroked his own cock slowly, down and up, trying to separate the pleasure from the discomfort of having something push against his rear. Suddenly there were teeth on his neck again, eliciting a gasp, and he arched his back at the same moment Tony's finger breached him, pushing up and into his body.

Loki wanted to clench, but the bite made him melt, the discomfort disappearing as soon as he relaxed. That made something click in Loki's mind, and spread his legs a little further to give Tony access.

"Fuck, that's good," Tony said with a rough voice. "You're a natural, kid."

"Shut up," Loki growled, his hands sliding over oiled skin. "Are you going to talk, or fuck me?"

"Hmm, you should talk dirty more often. I like it."

Loki was lost for a while, his awareness only of hot breath and sliding fingers, sometimes one, sometimes two, but always slow and meticulous until he was practically grinding against the hand, wanting to speed up the process. Sometimes a hand gripped the back of his neck and lifted his head to watch, the sight of another prick next to his own nearly causing him to break.

He should hate himself for wanting this so much, but the many years of hating himself was exhausting. Loki was ready to feel something different.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Tony asked, scooting closer and lifting Loki's hips.

Realizing Tony was actually waiting for his answer, Loki took a breath and nodded, watching as the head of Tony's cock disappeared from sight. Then there was pressure, then a sudden burn, and Tony was hissing sharply at the nails that were digging into his back.

Remembering his orders, Loki slowly relaxed, very grateful when the worst of the burn disappeared. He focused only on breathing while Tony pushed further, filling Loki with his length until they were seamlessly connected.

Both men were breathing heavily, staring at one another in a pregnant pause, until Tony could no longer stand to be still, and rocked his hips. Loki cried out, unprepared for the barrage of sensations that bombarded his senses. Every muscle clenched and relaxed with each thrust, absorbing the shock, traveling up Loki's spine to his brain. Nothing in his hurried fantasies had prepared him for how intense it would be, nor how close he felt to Tony, how intimate and connected they were. There were no thoughts, no more doubts. This filled every need Loki had harboured and secretly kept, and here in Tony's arms was absolute freedom.

Dimly he was aware of a voice in his ear, whispering things he had only imagined, about how amazing, and tight, and swell he was. How he was beautiful, and fucking gorgeous, and mine, all mine.

Tony was barely holding onto his sanity, captivated by the red lips and raven head tossed back in pure ecstasy. This was the first time Loki had embraced a man, and that thought went straight to Tony's groin, knowing he was the first, and only, man who had seen such a perfect sight.

Loki seemed to like it when Tony bit his neck, so he kept doing it, bracing a hand on the bed to drive deeper into his passage. The beautiful kid was reacting so well, rolling up with each thrust, crossing his ankles behind Tony's back. Tony could feel the approaching orgasm, the tension building in Loki's body like a coiled wire.

He kissed Loki, wrapping one hand around his ignored dick.

"You're going to cum like this, you know. You're going to spill all over your stomach with a cock in your ass and my hand finishing you off."

Tony gave a harder thrust, and Loki practically screamed, his back launching off the bed, clinging to Tony as wave after wave crashed through him, the tight squeeze too much for Tony to fight, so he found himself following after just a few thrusts later.

His movements stopped, leaving both men sweaty and breathless, caught up in the moment of completion they had both shared.

"Did you...did you cum inside me?" Loki managed to ask.

"Glad you were paying attention," Tony wheezed, tipping to the side in a heap, hearing Loki's sucked in breath as he slipped out. The grin was back on his face, even as he struggled to regain his breath. "That's what I'm talking about. That right there? Worth everything."

Loki groaned, tired and spent, and rolling onto his side, away from Tony. He stared at the wall, waiting for the shame to replace the numb relief he felt now. Only it never came. How odd.

An arm smiled around his waist, and Loki realized he had been shivering in the aftermath. Lips brushed across his shoulder, traveling up to his ear.

"How you feeling, kitten? Weak? Incredible? All of that is normal. I've got to say, that was the best sex I've had in a long while. Didn't know you had it in ya."

Tony snickered as he cuddled against Loki's back, not bothered at all that Loki didn't want to cuddle him in return. The sweat between them was cooling, leaving a sticky residue behind.

"You can use my shower before you go," Tony murmured, tasting the salt on Loki's skin. Truthfully, he didn't want the other man to leave, but such was the price they had to pay for their little tryst.

The word 'shower' pulled Loki from his contemplation of nothingness, and he shuddered, pulling away from Tony and sitting up. His head felt heavy, as did his limbs, but the longer he breathed in and out the easier it was to focus.

It was over. He had done it. He could go home now. The room felt too close, and he just wanted to hide away.

"Loki?"

Loki placed his feet on the cold floor, wincing as he stood up. He would not hold onto the bed. He would not show a smidgen of weakness to this man.

"Where are the negatives, Stark?" He asked, proud of his calm voice.

Tony's mouth dropped open in dismay. "Really? Now? Come back to bed, sweetheart, they will be there when you're steadier on your feet. A drink will help, want a drink?"

Loki ignored the outstretched hand and stooped to gather his discarded pants, remembering that his shirt and suit jacket were still in the library. He used the edge of the sheet to clean himself, not caring about Stark's laundry. All the while Tony glared at him for daring to leave.

"You're really just gonna walk out like this?"

Loki pulled the suspenders on his bare shoulders and fixed Stark with an even look.

"The negatives."

Tony threw a pillow at him. "Yeah, alright. Fine. You want them? You earned 'em. On that table there, in the envelope, with all the prints I've got."

Loki finished tying his shoes and approached the table, eagerly opening the envelope and sliding out a line of photo negatives that he held up to the light to make sure they were the right ones. Tony snorted behind him. Satisfied, Loki closed the envelope.

"Is that all of them?" He asked with suspicion.

Tony gave him a nasty grin as he reclined on his messy bed. "If I find any more, I'll let ya know."

Loki's jaw clenched, but he merely nodded, then turned and strode from the room, leaving a very irritated mob boss behind him.

"How's that for gratitude?" Tony grumbled as he poured himself a drink. "I help him discover an important part of his identity and he gives me the cold shoulder. I'm a saint, I am. No respect."

Tony reminisced about the last hour as he slowly consumed his drink, the details fresh in his mind. He chuckled at the memories of Loki's bold moves to mask his nervousness, the challenge in those green depths. The way he shattered so beautifully in Tony's hands, taking everything he was given.

Tony swallowed the last bit of scotch and licked his lips, purring.

"Oh, we definitely have to do that again."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll go back to writing my other stuff after the surgery, I promise. xD I have got to write a fluffy Frostiron fic one of these days. So many ideas, so little time.


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